


Why Don't You Stay With Me?

by Krasimer



Series: Do Not Go Gentle [9]
Category: Homestuck
Genre: Altered Mental States, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Ashen Romance | Auspistice, Damara/Rufioh/Horuss Auspistice, Doc Scratch and others unknown are dicks, Fix-It, Fix-It of Sorts, Flushed Romance | Matesprits, Horuss didn't used to be such a simpering little shit, M/M, Memory Alteration
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-16
Updated: 2015-03-16
Packaged: 2018-03-18 03:44:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,089
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3554825
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Krasimer/pseuds/Krasimer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Your name is HORUSS ZAHHAK and you really wish that you didn't feel like you were losing your matesprit.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Why Don't You Stay With Me?

Your name is HORUSS ZAHHAK and you really wish that you didn't feel like you were losing your matesprit.

He flits away from you sometimes, his beautiful wings shimmer in the moonlight as he leaves you so far behind that you have no chance of catching up. He'll be talking to you, and then his face will scrunch up, something terrified behind his eyes and his hands will go still and he has always talked with them. Sometimes, when he's really excited, his phrases are more gesture than word and that has always made you inordinately happy.

The red in his hair just sets off the orange-brown of his wings, and you wouldn't have him any other way.

He's perfect.

(Maybe, perhaps, the inclusion of some form of mechanization, but that's a personal preference and there is no reason for it.)

But you feel like he has, as of late, been pulling away from you and that his mind is always elsewhere. His touches have diminished, until it is very rare for you to even feel the brush of his fingers on your shoulder. It should not make you as forlorn as it has, you have existed without him before, but it has been a very long time since then.

You are not sure that you remember how.

Perhaps it is that he is growing tired of you? Maybe, some part of your mind whispers insidiously, maybe he wants to be rid of you.

The very thought sends a sliver of ice, of the darkness of the void you are the hero of, deep into your blood pusher. Behind the shield of your helmet, you can feel the systems whirring to life and pulling away the tears as they form.

Your hands are shaking.

A knock on the door behind you startles you, and you turn to see Cronus standing there. Beside him is Meenah, her hand on the violet blood's shoulder. You bow respectfully, ignoring the sting of tears, and force a smile onto your face. "To what do I owe this pleasure?" you ask, and you are proud that your voice mostly hides your secrets.

Meenah's face falls, and she rubs at her forehead, muttering something about...

You aren't sure what she says.

"Cod damn it." she sighs, hand falling to rest on her hip. "Zahhak, you look like a mess. You don't hav'ta pretend to be alright in front of us, got it?"

Cronus bites his bottom lip, then steps forward when Meenah nudges his shoulder. "This should help a bit," he says, holding a bundle of fabric towards you. You, shamefully rude, don't respond and simply stare at it. He sighs, a deeper echo of Meenah, then sets it on the table and reaches for your helmet. "Not a one a' us vwas supposed ta be as fucked as this." he growls, unbuckling the straps and pulling it from your head.

Fresh air hits skin that hasn't felt it in so very long, and you hiss quietly, hands going to cover your eyes. With a small smile, he nudges your hands away, settling the bundle in them. "Here."

When you take it, he grins, then leans back against the table, nearly knocking something over. Instead of letting it fall like he might have before, he balances it, keeping it upright. You blink, and you still cannot form a single sentence that you might speak.

The void seems to have swallowed you.

It left you whole and took your form and now it stares out from behind your eyes, and you can feel it there.

"C'mon Zahhak." Cronus taps your chin. "Unvwrap yer damn gift."

As commanded, your hands move, and you can only watch as they do so. From beneath a deep blue cloth, a wrench appears, the metal warm to your touch. You drape the cloth across your lap, turning the wrench over in your hands. The letters on the middle, raised from the rest, catch under your claws as you run over them. 

_'You give me the strength ta fly!'_ you hear someone say, the words echoing in the vastness that's left behind in you.

You struggle for breath, for any sort of grasp on your current reality, as the rest of the memories flood in after that. The heaviness of the Void slinks away, curls up in the back of your mind and lets you breathe, tears coating your cheeks as you clutch the wrench to your chest and howl.

There are a few minutes that go missing, but you stay upright, and when your vision is functioning clearly once more, you can see that Meenah has come further into your work-space. 

Meulin and Latula have followed, and they stay further back. 

"What-"

Meenah grins at you. "You remember now?"

"Where is Rufioh's feather?" you demand, and you can feel the scowl on your face. Your hands clench in your lap, the wrench turning your knuckles white. You do not let your grip go slack. "Has he gotten his returned to him?"

"Not yet, chief." Cronus rests a hand against your chest and you nearly growl at him, only stopping when you remember that he is a highblood, his blood status exceeds yours.

You almost do not care.

If it would bring Rufioh back to you, you might rip off his hand.

"Oh!" Meulin squeaks, a smile on her face as she watches you. "Looks like he remembers the relationship part! Gotta say, sourpuss, two quadrants filled with one troll when they're not Flushed and Pitch?" she giggles. "Kind of impressive."

Your blood rushes to your face and you clear your throat. "And what of Damara?"

"Vwe hawven't gotten ta her yet." Cronus slicks a hand back through his hair. "Vwe're gettin' there. Decided ta get ya back first, yer strength is gonna be..." he grins, then continues. "Extremely useful."

You stand from your seat, the wrench still in your fist. "While I do appreciate your use of such noble words, sir, I would appreciate continuing on to find him even more."

Cronus gestures at them and they all file out of the room. "Vwe hawve an important fuckin' mission," he tells you, voice hushed. His face is serious for the first time in sweeps, and you immediately stand straight. "Vwe gotta help someone vwho ain't got much luck right nowv."

"And who might that be?" you raise an eyebrow, following him out the door.

He grins, and you feel a shiver go down your spine. "I'll tell ya on the vway."

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, so if you honestly thought I was going to leave a Zahhak as a simpering little lovesick wimp, you really don't know me that well.
> 
> Equius basically has the corner market on being a fucking grump, so I took that and extrapolated.
> 
> :D. Deal with it.
> 
> (What did you think? We're a few chapters from the end!)


End file.
